Sleep Together
by Sierra's Darkness
Summary: Fifty Yami no Bakura x Malik Ishtar sentences for the livejournal community, 1sentence. Rated for sexual themes, alcohol use and language.


**Author's note:** Heyyy, I live! Back and kicking, for anyone still reading all my crap. :D This time, I've got a set of fifty sentences written for the 1sentence community over at livejournal, where I claimed Yami no Bakura/Malik a while ago, and am currently working on a Thief King/Malik set. So, because this is a little different from what I'd usually post, any input would be appreciated.

**Pairing:** Yami no Bakura x Malik Ishtar (Thiefshipping).

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Yuugiou, Malik or Yami no Bakura.

**Warnings:** Adult themes, alcohol use, sexual references,

**---**

**Sleep Together**

_The emptiness  
The craziness  
Satisfy this hungriness  
If we sleep together  
Nothing satisfies me, baby_

**01; walking**  
"Why couldn't we have simply _walked_?" growled the thief, clutching tightly to Malik's waist as he swerved his motorbike in and out of traffic; Malik's only response was to grin and ask innocently, "Aren't you man enough to handle a little speed?"

**02; waltz**  
Yami no Bakura's first clubbing experience had been strange: a zombie-like, shifting crowd unnerved him slightly, but with Malik giving him firm yet subtle touches with his body, he decided he could live with it, if just for now.

**03; wishes**  
His brother and sister had wished the Pharaoh well, to be safe on his journeys – Malik, on the other hand, had nothing but ill wishes for him; he was grudgingly thankful to have Yami no Bakura agree with him on something, for once.

**04; wonder**  
Malik has always wondered about why the thief is so pale; he knows of the ancient spirit, Yami no Bakura's past self, and he can't help but marvel at the contrast between rough, sun-kissed skin, and pale, smooth skin.

**05; worry**  
Rishid worries about his brother, when he stumbles in the door at two in the morning, clearly intoxicated, leaning against the thief for support – he hadn't started drinking until he'd been introduced to it by Yami no Bakura (who seems to be regretting it as he holds Malik's hair back for him grudgingly as he leans over the sink).

**06; whimsy**  
Malik's ideas are often impulsive and seemingly impossible, earning him sceptical looks from Yami no Bakura; despite his dubious attitude toward Malik's capricious personality, he knows Malik has the cunning of a fox and can pull anything off, if he puts his mind to it.

**07; waste/wasteland**  
The ruins of Kul Elna were a wasteland, utterly devoid of life and colour, the sparse landscape barren, and soaked with innocent, age-old blood, as Yami no Bakura had finally spat at Malik, exasperated with his pestering.

**08; whiskey and rum**  
"Nuh," Malik slurred, dull-eyed as he pressed a hand over Yami no Bakura's mouth, silencing him, "Dun say it 'less ya mean it."; the thief smirked lazily at Malik, taking another swig of the vodka, and welcoming the burning sensation on his tongue.

**09; war**  
"Well," Malik smirked, rubbing at his sore wrists, which had been confined to handcuffs, before he smirked at Yami no Bakura, who glared daggers at him from where he was, cuffed to the bed, "I might have lost the battle, but I definitely won the war, wouldn't you say?"

**010; weddings**  
In the spring after Battle City, Malik was forced to go to his sister's wedding to Kaiba Seto and, in turn, forced Yami no Bakura to accompany him; both had received cool gazes from the CEO, and Rishid's vigilant eye over Malik prevented the thief from having any fun with cake leftovers.

**011; birthday**  
Malik's birthday took place at the very end of the year, when _normal_ people were busy shopping, and making ridiculous lumps out of the cold, white substance; Yami no Bakura's so-called 'gift' to Malik was a lapis lazuli (it originated in Egypt, the thief deciding that it was appropriate), only for him to steal it back when Malik wasn't watching.

**012; blessings**  
Needless to say, Rishid didn't approve of the poorly hidden relationship between his brother and Yami no Bakura, and Isis had been too wrapped up in her job at the museum to notice (fortunately for the two, she hadn't taken note of the stains on _her_ sheets, the couch, the carpet or Malik's pillows, either).

**013; bias  
**"You just don't like it because you're biased," Malik stated, attempting to drag a reluctant Yami no Bakura out the door and into the sun; he, himself, was a creature of sunlight, and relished in its warm rays soaking his skin, but the thief didn't seem so appreciative.

**014; burning**  
His skin was burning, every nerve alight with the need to be touched, and the man's hands were smooth, unlike the calloused hands Malik was accustomed to; back arching, lips claimed by a thief – he'd never felt so utterly torn.

**015; breathing**  
Despite his wishes against it, Yami no Bakura lives, breathes, feels the age-old fury of his past self coursing through him; he curses his heartbeat, day after day, because he is still mortal – but Malik is always there to purr against his ear, soothing him.

**016; breaking**  
Isis' heart was breaking, as it did every night, when she stood by the window, curtains pushed aside; Malik's motorbike would already be halfway down the street, her brother driving with the thief holding on to his waist tightly – Malik was being stolen away from her and Rishid by _him_, and there was nothing she could do to change it.

**017; belief**  
Malik didn't believe in divine beings; Yami no Bakura was simply an exception because of his talented mouth and, despite the pride Malik had to swallow to admit it, the thief was fast becoming a part of him (just as Yami no Bakura had no faith left in any god at all – he was damned by them evermore).

**018; balloon**  
A young and curious Malik had never seen such a thing, so he turned to his sister for answers; she gave him a strained smile, and explained that, sometimes, things were full of hot air and simply needed to be burst – in his later years, alongside Yami no Bakura in Battle City, Malik learned the same went for the man's ego.

**019; balcony**  
"You honestly don't expect me to climb down _that_, do you?" Malik asked dubiously, cocking an eyebrow; Yami no Bakura folded his arms, shrugging nonchalantly as he answered, "If you want the keys to your motorbike back, you'll climb down, simple as that; better hope you don't wake your sister or your lapdog, too."

**020; bane**  
"You're a curse," Yami no Bakura purrs against Malik's skin, nipping hungrily as the Egyptian draws in a sharp breath – he knows the thief means it, but as long as he continues what he's doing, Malik's willing to agree with anything he says.

**021; quiet**  
The nights between them were silent, Malik's head resting on the thief's chest, an arm draped across him loosely, and if Malik concentrated hard enough, he felt as though he was being held in the arms of a parent once again.

**022; quirks**  
Malik's quirks are seemingly endless: he is an obsessive-compulsive cleaner, dislikes meat, must have everything his way, and changes moods so rapidly that attempting to keep up is a feat in itself – but Yami no Bakura approves of Malik's odd (and revealing) taste in clothing.

**023; question  
**"Stop questioning my strategies," Yami no Bakura growled darkly, shoving Malik against the window pane (it was a shame Kaiba's blimp didn't have larger windows, or he'd have shoved Malik through it); Malik glared as his back met cool glass, and retorted sharply, "If yours actually _succeeded_, I might _stop_."

**024; quarrel**  
Yami no Malik observed the vicious sneers and irate growls tossed back and forth between his host and the silver-thief with sadistic amusement; before he interjected with his 'old married couple' comment, he knew their partnership outside of the duelling arena was not simply business at all – the scratch marks on Yami no Bakura's neck were uncovered when Malik grabbed his collar and yanked him closer, snarling.

**025; quitting**  
Yami no Bakura stares flatly as Malik, wearing only his boxers, poses in front of the mirror, and he wonders when the boy will quit acting like some kind of drama queen with an attitude problem; then again, he muses, a smirk crossing his face as he gets to his feet, Malik's just asking to be screwed senseless.

**026; jump**  
"Jump," Yami no Bakura ordered sharply, giving Malik a shove toward the edge; Malik didn't hesitate for even one moment, his hand wrapped around the other's wrist tightly as they both fell into oblivion – and there was no trace of them when the authorities inspected the building ledge later that night.

**027; jester**  
In the Pharaoh's court, Malik could have been the jester – he enjoyed playing pranks on Yami no Bakura, who was an unsuspecting target (but, then, who would have seen a water balloon plummeting from three stories up?), and the playful gleam in his eyes only made things worse for the thief.

**028; jousting**  
They argued over most things – dominance, duelling, who would defeat the Pharaoh, which of them was better looking – but every fight ended the same way: with Yami no Bakura tossing Malik across the closest stable thing and ravaging his mouth with the hunger of a starving wolf.

**029; jewel**  
Jewels were made to be worn, prized; Yami no Bakura's thieving hands were drawn to Malik's beauty, his deceit, his determination to overthrow an age-old monarch.

**030; just**  
Yami no Bakura just is: is an escape, is an excuse, is an existence which Malik doesn't want to accept, but does, despite this; he'd rather be held at gun point than admit just how tightly the thief has him wrapped around his finger.

**031; smirk**  
The way Malik saw it, Yami no Bakura had very little to smirk about, now that they were both fading into the shadows in the aftermath of his darker half's attack; but, with the sidelong glance he was cast, Malik realized there was still a fight to be won.

**032; sorrow**  
The rain stung Malik's skin, his head bowed, hair soaked through and through, and the words etched into the granite headstone were enough to make him grieve; but as silver streaks of mist surfaced from between the blades of muddy grass, and entwined around his body, he thought distantly, that darkness could never die.

**033; stupidity  
**"Don't be stupid," Malik spat angrily, in response to Yami no Bakura's "innocent" questioning of his sexuality – was it of any relevance where dueling was concerned, really?

**034; serenade**  
He'd only been young when Isis sung softly to him, her voice melodic against the cool night breeze, but he could still remember her voice, even now, in the arms of a stranger.

**035; sarcasm**  
Yami no Bakura hated everything about Malik: the smug air about him, his tendencies to be a downright bastard, the flawlessness of his body, but, most of all, the sarcasm – it was damn near impossible to tell when Malik was being serious and not fooling around.

**036; sordid**  
Every night, when the thief slipped from his bed, silver and silent, Malik felt violated, and he grew to wish he could cleanse his soul of all the dishonour to his family and heritage.

**037; soliloquy **  
Unbeknownst to him, Malik had developed the odd habit of talking to himself; he muttered whatever was on his mind as he pleased, and the thief couldn't help but notice how strange it was, even without Malik's darker half's presence.

**038; sojourn  
**"What do you mean, 'take a break'!" Malik demanded furiously, scowling daggers at Rishid, anger furthering at the man's calm expression; skulking in the darkest corner of the room, Yami no Bakura watched the exchange calmly, waiting for the right moment to strike Rishid down.

**039; share**  
When he found the books on the pharaoh's times, Malik didn't share what he had learned; Yami no Bakura hadn't forgotten his past – he had simply altered his goals slightly (the Sennen Items had never looked more appealing), and chosen, in return, to reveal nothing of his previous life to Malik; life was a two-way street, after all.

**040; solitary**  
Before Yami no Bakura met Malik in the alleyways of Domino City, he was solitary: worked alone and only for himself – but his attitude toward individual work was changed from the moment Malik's bike skidded to a halt before him, sending dust flying.

**041; nowhere**  
The heated nights spent with Malik pressed up against his motorbike, Yami no Bakura between his legs, hands threading through Malik's flaxen-gold hair seem to be getting them nowhere – neither can concentrate enough around the other to form any sort of strategy for the Pharaoh's demise.

**042; neutral**  
Nothing about either of them is neutral: both Malik and Yami no Bakura have their own opinionated beliefs, and cocky attitudes; they're firmly standing on the same side of this battle between ancient forces of darkness.

**043; nuance**  
Malik had been hinting at it for months (none too subtly, either), and Yami no Bakura, growing increasingly irritated with the Egyptian's voice in his ear nearly all the time, grudgingly conceded to bottoming – only _once_ – on the condition that Malik wouldn't speak a word to him for an entire month (it was a price he was willing to pay if it meant Malik ceased bothering him).

**044; near**  
As long as the thief was near, a slight scowl etched on his features, even when he was deep in sleep, Malik was almost certain he could remain this way forever; the steady heartbeat beneath his fingertips reminded him they were both real, and in this crazy quest for power together.

**045; natural**  
"Are you sure this is natural?" Malik asks warily, toying with a lock of silver hair between his fingers; Yami no Bakura rolls his eyes, swatting Malik's hand away in annoyance – the kid should _know_ that _all_ his hair is naturally that colour, by now.

**046; horizon**  
The Pharaoh's defeat seemed so far off; long after Yami no Bakura had slipped from his bed and into the night, Malik was silent – they had come this far, only to be stopped in their tracks by their infatuation with each other.

**047; valiant**  
Watching from the confines of the Pharaoh's mind during his duel against Malik's darker half, Yami no Bakura reflects on what is either Malik's foolhardiness or his bravery; either way, the boy shackled, ankle and wrist, is stronger than he looks.

**048; virtuous**  
Neither Malik nor the thief's cause for revenge was good or just, and simply a misunderstanding on both accounts, but it didn't prevent the pact between cataclysmic forces of fury.

**049; victory**  
"I hardly call this a victory," Yami no Bakura muttered darkly, as Malik howled with laughter, mindful not to step on the mauled pigeon beneath his feet.

**050; defeat**  
"This wasn't quite the defeat I had in mind," had been the last words Yami no Bakura uttered, before Malik's lips were crushed against his in a bruising kiss, wrists bound by handcuffs to either bedpost.

---

**A/N: **That's all from me, as it's almost bedtime. XD; Titanic messed with my brain, man. I shouldn't watch movies like that. Anyway, any reviews and constructive criticism would be AMAZING.


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